Drinking Alone on a Friday Night

Drinking Alone on a Friday Night

The wine floods my brain
and I must walk away;
the sight of laughter—
contentment—perplexes
and I enter the dim-lit world,
trading envy for desire.

I drink to forget, momentarily,
yet can't help but imagine
a kiss
soft sweet lingering
a kiss
blind passionate longing,
full of a love suppressed,
a desire two years in the making,
which time tried to bury
but flowered underground till
the earth could contain it no longer.

It burst forth suddenly,
capsizing my unsuspecting soul.
She asked, I answered
her kiss, my caress
a torrent of emotion: then,
a flood of wine: now,
all the while I knew;
my mind knew that
it was a dead-end road
in a dark corner of Possibility
yet couldn’t contain
the bottle of love
after being shaken.

One could count the angstroms
from my nose to hers
and find no uncertainty.

But even the blind can’t
march on forever.

So I drink wine,
just me and my thoughts,
accepting my lot
so long as she may be happy—
need not be I?